My Internal Monologue
by forgotmyoldaccount
Summary: AU. OOC Quinn/Santana.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

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><p>"Look at that hot piece of ass."<p>

Seven words. Seven _freaking_ words that changed my world.

What would have happened if I did not raise my head to look at that 'hot piece of ass', I will never know.

But because of those seven simple words, I looked up from my sandwich, followed the line of sight of the guy who muttered those silly seven words, found that 'hot piece of ass', and I just knew my life will never be the same.

Exaggerated? I think not.

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><p>"So, anyone know who <em>that<em> is?" Puck's voice brought everyone back to life. I can see some dazed look and awkward blushes around the table.

"_That's_ Santana Lopez." Mike said, suddenly finding his spaghetti really worthy of being focused on.

"And… how'd you know her name?" Mercedes beat me to it.

"Oh, I'm her neighbor. So I'm sure it's her."

"Let me sleep over." Puck muttered dazedly as he tried to get another glimpse of that "hot piece of ass". I saw him looking for Santana at the other side of the cafeteria. I wanted to mimic his actions, but no can do.

Sam tapped Puck to get the boy's attention when Puck started craning his neck disturbingly higher.

"What?"

"Dude, cut it. It's suicide." Sam was saying.

Puck huffed at that and began flexing his muscles. I tried to swallow my food quickly to prevent from gagging from the unwanted display.

"Please, she'd want in on the Puckasaurus trai- "

"Maybe, I should've been clearer. She's a Lopez, _the_ Lopez." Mike cut him off.

"… and?" Kurt pushed and I want to second that, 'cause really, what I miss?

Mike and Sam shared an incredulous look which would have really earned a slap from me cause seriously? These two know more than Mercedes and Kurt? What twisted universe am I in?

When the answer didn't come as fast as I wanted it to come, I decided to intervene because the suspense is literally killing me.

"The suspense is killing me. Spill."

My face, as Brittany sometimes would tell me, held that perfect bored gaze and I know my voice didn't hold any emotion despite me saying the actual truth out loud. I rock platonic look any time of day.

Mike looked at Sam _again_ and I swear, are they dating?

"She's pretty famous you know? Even if she was gone for three years. Sorry, we kind of forgot that you guys aren't really from Lima."

True that. There's Noah Puckerman, Mercedes Jones, Kurt Hummel and Brittany Pierce who all, like me, just started living here in Lima two and a half years ago under the same company program our parents are involved in.

Yep. Our parents know each other and work with each other. Yey.

Kurt motioned for Mike to continue because it really didn't explain anything.

I mean sure, this Santana Lopez could have easily claimed she's a new generation goddess, cloned and ready to rule the world and I would've believed her without any further explanation and just swear allegiance to whatever kingdom she's leading, march up front and defend her honor till the day I die, but that's beside the point.

"Well, she's the youngest and most prized Lopez child of the Lopez clan who are like mafias that just mellowed some four-five years ago." Mike was saying as he waved his fork around like he was just adding one plus one.

"I haven't heard of that. No playin' boy. " Mercedes has every right to doubt that because if there was a mafia history around this town, heck even a small-time crime issue, the company wouldn't have invested here and relocate their top executives' and advisors' family.

And come on? Mafia? What is this, the 19th century?

"Not playing with you guys here. They're not really celebrity mafias, you know? People don't talk about them. They're like a high-class yakuza family. With the big guns but Robinhood style? Or something. Arg, I don't know! She's just badass." Sam stuffed his lips with his burger, probably not knowing what to say anymore.

And as if _she_ sensed that people are blatantly talking about her, Santana Lopez walked our way again. This time, she's flanked on either side by two girls slightly smaller than her. They decided to sit at a table directly parallel to ours and I can't help but look at her, and I found comfort knowing everyone else was doing that, judging by the sudden eerie stillness that shook this part of the cafeteria.

I see her get settled and she started looking around as well. Her face contorts in a glare, probably scaring off people and reprimanding them from staring. I wonder if she feels uncomfortable holding a gaze.

And just as the thought entered my mind, I saw her look my way and I was a tad slower to take my eyes off of her before it's too late. But it was. And now, she's looking straight at me. I held my breath and wondered if she would glare, smirk, roll her eyes at me, materialize a gun and shoot me. But no bullets came. She's just… staring right back at me.

And by gods, of all people she can stare back at, why me?

I knew my eyes are a little wide from the shock. And I know this is the right time to look down, up, left or right, anywhere to break this staring contest. But somehow her eyes have roped mine and dear Lord how can I feel so hot when I know for a fact that this cafeteria is ridiculously air-conditioned?

The sudden tug at her shirt by one of the girls she's with finally saved me from her smoldering gaze and I breathe a sigh of relief. And I just then noticed everyone at the table looking at me. I looked back with a 'what' on my face.

"You hot for Puck's lady?" Puck's voice held no malice, which I know. But I still didn't like the smirk he's sporting.

"What?" was all that I managed to come up with.

"You just had a stare-fest with her." Mercedes added which Kurt back up by poking my side.

"Eye-sexed her." Brittany wasn't really helping.

"Undres – "

"Okay. Okay. Stop." I raised my hand to stop whatever's going to come out of Sam's lips.

They all look at me as if I was to reveal the secret to eternal youth. I sighed, cause what can I say?

_I'm smitten! That was the best 30 seconds of my life! If staring at her does things to me, what more if she touches me! I will go to her house immediately and ask her family for her hand in marriage, then I shall have our lady-babies' name tattooed all over my body!_

"I was sizing her up, good addition to the Cheerios, right Britt?" I said as nonchalant as I could muster. Damn, I should be an actress!

Brittany just looked at me disbelievingly. Mercedes chuckled and Puck patted my back. I feel like I'm missing something again. Kurt looked at me with a sort of proud look on his face.

"Trust Quinn Fabray to deny eating a cake when her lips are smothered by icing."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

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><p>"No."<p>

"Just freaking roll the ball!"

"Okay, why don't you do it, smartass!"

"Wha-Why me? You have the ball, just do it!"

"This was your idea!"

"Yes, and I'm telling you it's perfect. You can do this!"

"Then you do it."

"It has to be you!"

"The freaking dog's freaking me out, you do it!"

"No, you – oh shit!"

"Pixie!"

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><p>There must be something wrong with me.<p>

After the 'Lopez Phenomenon', as Mike so fondly calls it, Puck had been bugging me for weeks on end to _go for the kill_; starting with pulling the strings of fate to make _our_ paths cross. _Our_ being Santana's and mine.

"Listen to me babe," Puck grabbed my shoulders to make me face him. I can tell that his confidence with the way he just called me is this high because Kurt is eagerly supporting him. "With the way she's guarded by vicious brunettes here at school, it's just impossible for the two of you to meet naturally."

He was saying it with a serious look on his face that I couldn't help but tilt my head in amusement.

"Are you on drugs or something? It'll seriously cost you in the long run, you know. I bet it'll make you unable to do things… _naturally_." I ended with a wink.

He abruptly let go of my shoulders and mouthed a 'what' before Kurt replaced him in front of me.

"Quinn, stop messing with his head. He's right with the vicious brunettes, you absolutely have no chance of ever meeting Santana Lopez officially here at school."

"Kurt I don – "

"And it's been two weeks but she's not trying out for Cheerios, Q! This is serious!" Brittany shook my side and I was really glad they all managed to drag me in an empty classroom before they spewed all this unnecessary drama towards me.

I really don't get why they're fussing about me and Santana Lopez meeting. I mean, she can totally make me wait for her at the ends of the world and I'd be just squeaky fine.

"What is with you guys with me and her _meeting_?"

They all looked at me flabbergasted. Kurt took my hand and I knew all four of us will miss lunch because of this.

"You two are fated to be together." Kurt gave me the look he gives whenever he sees that Blaine person he's been crushing on and I wanted to puke right there and then. He must've mistaken my grimace to confusion because he continued unabashed.

"Do you know what fate means?"

"Uh, yeah. The development of events outside a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power." I recited. Puck and Britt's faces were priceless.

"I – uh. Yes exactly. And we – " Kurt motioned to the three of them. " are that 'supernatural power'".

I'm getting dizzier by the minute at how this is turning out.

"Look, Q, I really think you two are like Romeo and Juliet. It'll be sad if you two don't even meet." I tried to not cry with frustration at what Brittany just said because this is really going on loops and twirls and… why are we here again?

When I saw that telltale sign that Puck's about to put his two cents in, I hurriedly muttered "Alright, let me hear what egghead has to say", which I immediately regretted the moment he opened his mouth again.

Summary, (as I munched happily on my sandwich 'cause I'd be damned if I missed my lunch and screw them if they want to, but I won't) they want me and Santana to become 'endgame', whatever that is.

I really didn't understand anything that spewed forth for the next ten minutes. But I did get some words here and there, 'cause hey, I'm involved.

So, not in school. Vicious brunettes. Mike agreed. Against Sam's will, but will be there. Cedes maybe coming. Depends on Kurt. Santana has a dog. Learn soccer. Two weeks time. Brittany can –

Whoah. Wait.

Santana has a dog?

"Santana has a dog?" I was careful not to drop the rest of my lunch.

".. and then, we can – Huh? Oh, yes. She has one dog." Puck was saying. I looked at Kurt which only nodded in affirmation.

"I think it's a Chihuahua. I overheard her talking about how cute her baby is and that it's one of her number one priorities in moving back; to secure her precious Pixie. Yep, definitely a Chihuahua, ain't that cute?" Kurt was all smiles.

"Charming." I muttered lowly and went back to munching.

Not that I hate dogs, I love them! I marvel at how much fun people have with them. I could watch them run and frolic for hours on end!

Just, from afar, you know?

And, the fun ends when they start approaching you and starts looking at you funny and lick you and start nibbling at you and gahhh!

I really think it's because Charity rubbed off some of her cat-survival-instincts on me. Or was it Lord Tubbington? I have to start avoiding going to Brittany's house every weekend.

"Well, anyway, that's not a problem, right?" Puck's worried look sent me out of my reverie.

"Oh, ofcourse!" Be convincing. Be terribly convincing! It's a Chihuahua, it's small, you can do this! For the sake of getting them off your back and meeting that wonderful specimen, you can do this! "I mean, psh, dog. Not a problem." I laughed a little for effect.

There's _definitely_ something wrong with me.

* * *

><p>So here we are after one week of faux playing soccer and one week of re-convincing me that this is a fool-proof plan and that it's a one-time big-time thing. The five-man team is settled in Mike's house.<p>

It's a pleasant house. Wonderful garden. Fine taste in modern art. Amazing parents (Although Mrs. Julia Chang could use a mellowing down on the overzealousness).

Ah, just the place to be.

One thing's making this all sour and that's the incredible fool-proof plan Puck, and apparently Brittany, has in store for me.

"Alright, game time boys!" Puck looked at me and Brittany. " And wonderful girls,"

I rolled my eyes and just joined the mini huddle they're doing.

"We know where we all gotta be and what we all gotta do." We all nodded. This will be the longest fifteen minutes or so of my life.

Puck then placed his hand in front of us, and – oh great, a team prep. "Fabray for the win!"

Mike, Sam and Brittany placed their hands on his and repeated "Fabray for the win!" with a boom and strutted out to their places. I was left standing there. Horrified.

Puck smirked at me and decided to drag me since I seem to have forgotten why I'm friends with these bozos. I sighed in exasperation to let Puck know that I am still 100% against all this but for the benefit of not being bugged again, I will do this.

Better get this over with.

The plan is simple really. Pretend to play soccer in the vast lawn of the Chang's. Or atleast do some soccer thing with the soccer ball. I still don't get the game, but I learned a few ball handling techniques. Nothing fancy, but Cedes said I looked hot doing it so. Yeah.

Whenever Puck's phone vibrates it means Britt, who's manning the window up Mike's room, can see Santana in her massive house and we have to 'act rigorously' to catch her attention.

If Sam's phone vibrates it means Santana's approaching her front door and that means he has to signal Mike to 'over kick the ball at my direction', and I have to miss it, therefore sending the ball to the other lawn, which will prompt me to walk over and Santana to go out and meet me.

Yey.

So we formed the magic circle, with my back to Santana's house, Sam and Puck at my far sides and Mike directly opposite me.

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><p>Problem one happened two minutes after we started tossing the ball across each other.<p>

"What if she's not home, man?" Sam chuckled at what he said. "That would suck."

Damn right it would and I would be sooo frustrated over the weekend, but they don't have to know that.

Puck froze and looked at Mike accusingly. Mike held his hand up while the ball rested under his foot.

"She just had her morning run, and she hasn't left their house since then and up to you guys arriving. And I haven't seen her lackeys' car so she's definitely home."

"Well, what if she left her house through some hidden passageway?" Puck's panic look brings entertainment to my bones. He turned to look at Sam. "You guys said she's like a yakuza daughter, and that house might as well be booby trapped or something. And they have to have exits incase a shootout happens. Like a maze or something. And – "

"Egghead, chill." I cut him off. It's really unfair of him to be acting up his nerves while I'm the one who should be rightfully nervous. Not that, again, they have to know.

He was about to open his mouth again, but Sam quickly ran to where Mike is, took the ball and aimed at me in blind panic.

I went from fake composed to purely alarmed.

"She's going out. Game time!"

I knew I squeaked. I heard myself. But the embarrassment can wait. I instinctively dodged the ball and as planned, it went pass me.

Problem two happened in the form of a fence.

The ball did go past me. But it wasn't high enough to go over the sad excuse of a fence the Chang's have. It's built low, like Santana's but Sam kicked the ball a little too short to make it. I can almost hear Mike scold Sam with "_And_ that's why I was supposed to kick it!"

I sighed in both relief and disappointment. There goes fate.

As I approached the ball, I felt Puck quickly pull me down to a squat.

"What in the – "

"Shh! We can still do this!" He whispered as he reached for the ball and handed it to me.

I looked at him and the house and then I saw _it_.

Is that…Pixie?

Brown beady eyes gleamed at our direction. I can see the muscles on its feet rumbling as it stood up and wow, that is not a Chihuahua.

Puck seemed to not mind that there's a giant dog by Santana's porch. Better inform the idiot before I faint.

"There's a dog." I whispered and I sure hope Puck heard me over himself instructing me on what to do next, but hell no.

"Yea, and we talked about it and you – "

"That's not a Chihuahua."

"It's a bullmastiff, I think. So – "

"It's NOT a Chihuahua." I can feel my strained voice and my nerves and my lungs and my heart and oh goodness it's not a cute little Chihuahua! Kurt must die.

"Yes, and you only need to roll the ball so it wouldn't be suspicious. Now go on. Roll the ball."

"No."

"Just freaking roll the ball!"

"Okay, why don't you do it, smartass!"

"Wha-Why me? You have the ball, just do it!"

"This was your idea!"

"Yes, and I'm telling you it's perfect! You can do this!"

"Then you do it!"

"It has to be you!"

"The freaking dog's freaking me out, you do it!"

"No, you – oh shit!"

"Pixie!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

A/N: I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read this story. Please excuse this short update. I'm working on the next one real quick to offset this short chapter.

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><p>You know that moment when everything's not going well and you start to think that maybe you did something heinous in your previous life for you to deserve the current situation you're in?<p>

Well, this is that moment.

I can almost hear the universe laughing at me.

* * *

><p>"No you – oh shit!"<p>

If I hear words like "oh" followed by "shit", I usually think it means something bad. Puck, I bet, would've thought otherwise – but that's beside the point.

I snapped my head forward the moment I heard "Pixie".

In movies, suspicious characters tend to hide and avoid being discovered, about like 90% of the time. I was about to do that. Honest. However, I wasn't able to do anything else but stand in attention for all the world to see instead of escaping, but not for lack of trying. I can feel that the 'standing' part wasn't because of my body reflex, but of _Puck's_ body reflex. He's still grabbing my shirt sleeve after yanking me up with him.

If this is his funny way of saying 'If I go down, you're going down with me' then I'm not amused.

My only option now is to face thy enemy, judging from the approaching steps and the increasing volume of dog barks thrown our way.

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><p>I really thought I could <em>face<em> Santana Lopez head on (I had a gut feeling that it is indeed Santana Lopez and not some unknown person approaching me and my little monkey here). I eye-sexed her, as Brittany put it, a month ago, how hard can this be?

I didn't take into consideration that the moment I look straight at her, walking towards me with her white tank top and short shorts, everything would go slow-mo.

My mom always taught me to be aware of warning signs, and heed them. Do Not Enter, Stop, One Way, Detour, No Swerving, Slippery When Wet, Caution, No Vehicles Beyond This Point, Road Closed, Pedestrian Crossing. Well, I think Santana Lopez should carry a sign atop her head to warn people. Seriously.

Caution: Hot [Goddess] Surface. Do not [Panic] Touch.

I thought I was watching some really good Baywatch re-run, not until Puck nudged me and whispered something before Santana can fully come near the fence.

"Goodluck, careful with the dog" and he was gone with the wind.

Huh? What dog?

The bark reminded me.

Oh, Pixie.

Right now there's only this 3-foot fence between me and Pixie, which is a 2-foot bullmastiff, about 110 pounds, and I'm _not_ risking my life. I have to withdraw. Now.

"Can I help you?" that stopped my plan on retreating quietly and just froze in place one-foot away from the fence. I looked up again only to be held hostage by those bewitching orbs.

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><p>I know she's talking to me. I know she opened her mouth and words were spoken. And I know I'm just gaping at her.<p>

Okay. Focus. Come on, what did she say? Can I help you? Okay, easy enough. Now answer.

"Yes."

I heard how that sounded so dazed so I mentally hanged myself.

I saw her quirk her brow and I felt my mind go on overdrive. There must be something I can say that can save me from this. I'm not used to being placed in tight spots like this where I don't know what to say cause I usually know! Argh, I should've stayed at home! Why was I here in the first place? I shouldn't have listened to Puck's plan! Plan? Plan! Ball! I need to get the ball!

"I need to get the ball."

I heard her giggle and if that should have calmed me down then it didn't fucking work.

"What ball? That one? You're holdin' it babe." She winked at me and I really had to replay everything and process all that was said before I say another stupid thi –

Yea. I was still holding the ball. The ball, that was supposed to be on their lawn, to make it look like I need help 'retrieving it', is safely grasped by my hands. I grimaced at that obvious flaw.

Dear Earth, I think you deserve a meal. Please open up and swallow me.

I was seriously about to sprint away when she suddenly took the ball and threw it far over her shoulders.

Again, I know I'm just freaking gaping at her.

She's still looking at me as she tugged at her dog's leash – oh wow, I almost forgot about it – and she gave a hushed command.

"Pixie" I swear, the dog mewled. "Go fetch."

And as the monstrosity that is Pixie galloped in the everglades that is the Lopez' lawn to tackle the unsuspecting soccer ball that Kurt and Mercedes bought for me for this splendid occasion, I felt my jaw gently close, guided by the unmistaken finger of one Santana Lopez.

Fence be damned, how'd she get _this_ close? I can't help but check if the fence was still there and yes it is still there, firmly planted. Did I _gravitate_ towards her? Does that explain why my stomach is touching my side of the fence and her arms are dangling calmly over her side of the fence?

"Oh my." She was talking again. I saw her look over her shoulder, presumably at where Pixie's trying to devour the soccer ball, and then looked back at me.

"I'm not sure I saw where your ball went."

I can't do anything but just nod my head. She smiled at that, straightened and began walking away.

Wait. Where is she going? Is that it? Did she just steal my ball?

She must've sense the panic, confusion and guessed how hard I must have been gripping the fence and there's that giggle again.

She gestured towards the front of their yard which I can't really see and shrugged her shoulders.

"Come up front, I'll let you in…" and she actually paused before saying "Let's look for it together."

I'm pretty sure my ancestors will forgive me for being single-handedly turned to mush by that oh-so-sexy voice.

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><p>Coming up... Round Two.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

A/N: Sorry this took longer to post. It was Quinntana week. I felt the need to sit back, relax and read. Life is good.

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><p>Round Two. Fight.<p>

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><p>I didn't even know how I reached the Lopez' front gate which is surprisingly not intimidating at all. When we were on our way to the Changs, I was too busy pretending to be calm and composed that I neglected to enjoy the scenery outside of the car. I didn't have time to scour the premises.<p>

It's just like your average picket fence gate, a continuation of the length of the fence on the Chang's side of the land. On the inner side of the front white fence rests a hefty width hedge completely blocking the view of the front lawn, which is actually amazing considering that I can see the lawn fairly well on the side. Lavender thunbergia vines creep all over the hedge, accentuating and giving it a romanticized caption of the whole front face of the property.

I'm also well aware that I'm paying extra attention to the freaking fence and hedge here because if I don't, I'll faint.

And it helped. Sure, round one goes to Miss Lopez. I was unprepared and I was almost knocked over. Almost.

God, I'm oozing with positivity.

* * *

><p>I wanted to wonder where my 'good friends' are. I really wanted to. But then she came in view. And… what was I thinking about?<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry that took long."<p>

What took long?

The confusion must've been stamped on my face because I heard her say "Me, getting to you. Come in."

"Uh, thanks."

I wasn't surprised that she just let me in. And that we didn't even do the usual 'By the way, I'm blah blah and you are?' I was surprised when she grasped my hand and led me further inside their property.

I cleared my throat to get her attention, not because I'm planning on reprimanding her for the sudden invasion of my personal bubble for the second time (not that I mind), but because I cannot make the same mistake twice by not remembering that she has a non-chihuahua dog named Pixie.

She didn't seem to hear me so she continued onwards, tugging me along. I decided to stop in place to get her attention… which I regretted since she's facing me now, and my wrist is now dateless.

"I – uh. " Goodness, you can do this! "I think your dog has it." I think? I THINK? God, I saw her throw the ball over her shoulder and ordered her dog to sic it! We both know her dog has it!

"How can you be so sure?" She asked with an innocent Girl Scout smile. And now it's a multiple choice for me. I either: A, bluntly recount what happened earlier (well, the part where I'm not dazed) or B, ride with it.

Her smiled grew into a sassy smirk and well… B it is.

"Well, I heard it bark so I'm thinking maybe your dog has my ball." Wow. Maybe closing my eyes won't make me too flushed. "I mean, my ball, soccer ball, your dog and my ball." She's giggling and I swear I'll stop hanging out with Puck. "I - ," Deep breathe. "Your dog may have seen the soccer ball." I opened my eyes and finished slowly and man, I have to wash my brain sometime.

She looked at me and took my hand again.

"Since you think my dog may have found your… soccer ball, " I cannot believe she winked. "… then let's go look for my dog."

No, no dog. Abort. Abort.

"What? No. I mean, I can't go wondering around your la – "

"That's why we're doing it together." She raised her brow and gestured towards her hand grasping mine.

This can't be good, I've seen Pixie and trembled way too much for one day.

"No, really. I, you know what? Never mind, it's just a soccer ball." I'm beginning to get back that confidence I lost back at the 'fence debacle', and I actually smiled at her.

She looked at me intently, and then mirrored the smile I was sporting, which is now turning into confusion. I saw her place her middle finger and thumb gently above her lower lip, then whistled.

Oh hell no.

"If you don't want to come look for my dog, I figured I'd let my dog come to us." She's smiling and she's so oblivious that although yes I'm nervous because of her, I'm also nervous because of Pixie.

I braced myself and instinctively closed the little space we had separating us, shame be damned. I latched onto her arm and at this point I don't care that I look so uncool. She looked at me searchingly and I just had to save the littlest pride I have in me by not voicing out what's so obvious.

She was about to say something, but her dog beat her to it as it came running from the back, torn soccer ball in its mouth.

Before the dog could reach her side, in effect reaching me as well, she turned her body towards the dog placing me slightly behind her. My left hand is still holding onto her right arm so her angle is a bit off, with her body half facing away from me.

"Stop. Stay."

My eyes are focused on Pixie and I know it's slightly paying attention to me but Santana demanded the dog's attention and it complied fully. It's then that I released the breath I didn't know I was holding.

I feel her turn again towards me and gently rubbed my arm.

"You okay? She won't hurt you, so you'll be fine. Trust me."

I'm so confused. Her eyes one minute are flirtatious and distracting and then another, their full of concern and –

I remember she's still waiting for me to answer, or acknowledge. And I know the dog is waiting for Santana to give another set of command or whatever.

My inability to form words just made me nod slowly and gulp. She's still looking at me with that inexplicable sincerity and I had to smile at that.

Her smile returns and her eyes sparkle back to flirtatious and the shift almost threw me.

"Looks like you're right." She was saying. "My dog did see your ball." I grimaced as I fully take in what happened to the soccer ball that was once a ball. Now it's a pancake.

She touched my hand and I realized I was still holding onto her for dear life. "I'm sorry, I'll pay you for it."

What?

She chuckled and tapped my nose. It felt so… natural.

"You are so distracted. Your soccer ball, I'll pay for it, since my dog raped it."

Oh.

"Oh, uhm. It's no biggie." I clear my throat and once I'm sure the dog isn't going anywhere unless Santana says so, I stepped away from her a bit.

The close proximity and touching and lack of normal flow of introduction is getting to me.

She was about to say something again but I think I've had enough for the day. I can't salvage what's left of this meeting.

"Thanks. I better go." I thanked Sue Sylvester for training me to do pivots like a whiplash. I have to hurry or else –

"Wait!"

Am I remote-controlled or what?

I felt her hand grasped mine again. We've held hands today for the third time. But who's counting?

"Why don't you come in for a sec? I mean, my dog tore your ball and I'm sure it's not 'no biggie'."

"No, really it's okay." I don't really play soccer, it's just a ploy to meet you actually. A meeting that took half my dignity and a lot of my composure perfected over the years. Argh.

She tugged at me with a smile.

"You sure?

"Positive." I smiled again at her, discreetly trying to pull my hand from her grasp. "I mean, it's not your dog's fault."

I was so sure that really did it and I'm free to go so I turned and tried to walk away. But her hand still held mine and it tightened.

"Well, your ball did trespass."

Huh? I turned again to look at her.

"Sorry, come again?"

She smirked and it was just like earlier where she seemed to know what I was up to and she's playing me like a fiddler.

"If you guys didn't play so hard, the ball wouldn't have crossed fence." I paled at that. It didn't cross the fence in all actuality and she knows it.

"Come to think of it, your ball could've hit me. I could have gotten hurt!" Her faux frown is too cute but I'm so baffled that I didn't have time to admire it fully.

"Or worse…" she tugged at me harder this time and I almost bumped into her. I felt her other hand grab the loose end of my sweatshirt. "…you could've hurt Pixie." Her voice was too low and raspy to be actually worried.

We both know the ball didn't get kicked to reach her lawn. But I know she busted us that we wanted the ball to reach their lawn no thanks to my incredible sense of concentration.

Is she blackmailing me?

"Are you blackmailing me?" Okay, my brain to mouth filter isn't working right now. Sue me.

Thankfully she laughed. And winked.

And began walking towards her house.

With me in tow.

She turned to her dog and motioned for it to follow which it did and now it's trailing behind me. With the pancake ball.

"We have a whole day to talk about the incident, right?"

I'm trapped.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I appreciate the faves and the story alert.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: It's been... yeah. And I really have a good excuse.

Um. I forgot my account password. Yes. Yes that's why I haven't... uh huh.

No actually, LOMA happened. Yep. Definitely.

So uh... yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

* * *

><p>Walking. Sitting down. Dog. What dog? Dog nudging my knees. Cute.<p>

"Lemonade?"

I looked up and saw her quirked brow. "I'm good." Nope, not really, but okay, let's go with that.

She looked me up and down and smirked "Indeed you are."

I refused to gush at that.

She turned to leave and just waved her dainty hand, must be her way of saying stay put.

By now, Pixie and I have established this mutual agreement of no mauling your master's visitor who's trying to hook up with said master secretly and no fearing the dog of the girl you're secretly crushing on as if it were uncivilized.

It's – _she's_ nudging my knee. Personal space is not really on their dictionary huh? I'm not as rigid as I thought I'd be.

The reality is slowly sinking in and wow. I'm inside her house.

Her huge house. Her… not-mafia-looking – and apparently empty - house. I looked at the flooring and decided I should tell Puck later that there's no trapdoor in the living room. If there's even a 'later'. I feel myself gulp at that.

What is with me huh? This is no big deal. I mean, sure, it's my first time crushing – hard – on a girl, but I've been very open about my preferences. Even to my parents. And I've flirted with a girl.

Yes. Yes, I have.

That's, like, experience, right? So what the heck is wrong with me? She's not all that.

Sure, she has long legs that seemed to go on forever, her body seemed to scream 'Touch me!' and I would gladly do that if given the chance because hot damn, that is one smoking body and those eyes, those unspeakably smoldering eyes that can hypnotize you to doing so many deeds that will never be regretted ever as long as I can tangle my hands on those curly midnight tresses that exude an aroma so mouth wat–

I have to get my mind off the gutter.

Pixie must've felt how hot I am for her mas – I mean, how uncomfortable I am in this place. I watch her move close to me and just lay there, trapping my sneakers below her body. I appreciate the sentiment of making me feel at home or protected, but come on!

As I was concocting a plan to pry my feet away from under the dog, I heard footsteps from where Santana left to... I don't know, maybe get us something to drink? Which is a huge mistake, yet again, as I saw her and my head just went on imagination overdrive.

I see her walking towards me with two glasses of something yellow. And –

_And we can build this street together, standing strong forever, nothing's gonna – _

What the heck.

"You ok there, Q?" she was saying as she handed me one glass.

I blinked to get focus. "Yes, thank… you…" Did she call me Q? I looked back at her with a raised brow. She laughed at that.

"What? It's not poisoned."

"Huh?"

She motioned to the glass I was holding. "Oh, no." I looked at her again. "You called me Q."

"Yes, that's what I heard your friends call you whenever I pass you guys by the hall at school."

I hum a response. I drink the glass to buy me sometime. How in the world did she sneak up on us like that at school? I mean, don't we part like the red sea whenever she walks by or something?

Gasp! She's gone ninja on me and my herd!

When I look up, she's smiling again. "Did you prefer me calling you Quinn?"

My name never sounded so good until it rolled off her lips. Say it again.

"How'd you know my name?" I'm glad my brain is working on the logic right now. I guess my brain to mouth filter is up and running.

She shrugged and drank her fresh mango juice. So fresh. Is that her tongue?

She was looking at me amused and I just knew I missed something.

"Uh, sorry did you say something?"

"I didn't say anything. Is it wrong to look at you?"

No. Absolutely not. Come look at me, while I look at you. Let's do this together!

"I just – it's not. It's…"

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all." I felt smug until she moved to sit on the long couch I was sitting on.

Are you trying to prove me wrong?

I squirm and focused on finishing up my glass. The faster I'm out of here, the better.

"I think I should go." She's just quietly sitting there, drinking her juice, boring holes on my face; I think I can go now.

We're an arm away but it doesn't help really. I can feel the electric shocks pouring in.

I was about to stand up when I felt her hold my wrist. "Stay."

Oh dear Lord. Why?

She's standing up and taking the empty glass I was holding. I can see her place the glasses on the coffee table, my eyes never leaving her slow languid movements. She takes my hand and I'm starting to walk.

Where's Pixie?

Forget Pixie, where is she taking me?

"Uhm, excuse me, where are you taking me?"

She stopped and hooked her arm on mine. "We're watching a movie…up my room."

"Oh."

Oh? Panic Fabray. This is an absolute chance to panic!

"W-Wait." I pry my arm off her. "Santana, I don't think I could. I mean, I should go, I barely know you and – " her finger shushed me. I wanted to kiss it. So. Bad.

"You know my name."

It was an automatic word vomit case, so to speak. I figured, hey she knows my name, might as well let her know I knew her name as well.

"You're quite popular and I'm friends with your neighbor so…"

She raised a thoughtful brow. "Oh, the dancing Asians. They're nice." She smiled and then continued to grab and drag me upstairs.

"Dancing Asians?"

Great goodness. She's dragging me upstairs to her room and all I can think of is that comment.

"Yeah, they usually organize some sort of neighborhood association dancing party or something. You know, invite all the adult couples and dance to slow music and stuff? They really dance quite well. No wonder their son's a god on the dance floor." She ended with a small melodious laugh.

I noticed we're in front of, I presume, her bedroom's door and at the mention of Mike, I felt a twinge of something I'd rather not name this early in the game. But I'm feeling it. And it's constricting.

"You know Mike?"

"No. But I've seen him dance and I'm sure you know what I'm talking about." She wiggles her brows.

She has me at arm's length, her hand moving up and down in a sign of comfort or… I don't know. I just suddenly feel… I feel so –

"Hey, you ok?"

She's saying that and I wanted to nod. But I feel… light headed. Maybe she likes Mike. She likes boys. Yeah. Wow. Maybe… yeah. What time is it?

"Quinn?"

She's getting fuzzier by the minute. Why is that? It's like a panoramic view. Cinematic. Or…

* * *

><p>My throat felt as dry as sand paper. No. My throat is dry like sand paper. I tried to reach for my water bottle which I usually have on my bedside.<p>

Strange. How did my bed get so wide?

I rolled to my side expecting to at least fall down my bed. My bed's a single. I should have my feet or arms dangling by now.

"You're restless in bed, Q."

That snapped my eyes open. That's Santana. What is she doing in my room?

"Wh – " my throat betrayed me. I coughed a bit to clear it and felt a glass of water shoved gently to me as I tried to sit up from –

This is not my bed.

"Thi – " again, my throat betrays me. I see her hand slowly push the glass towards my mouth, willing me to drink. I took this opportunity to think and think hard I did.

I'm not in my room! Where am I? Why is she here? Oh, right! I was with the bozos and we were trying to infiltrate – err, get to know Santana. But whe –

"You okay now?"

I looked up and dropped my hand holding the empty glass. I realized I was still holding it up though it's obviously empty. Hey, I was buying time ok?

"Uh – yeah. Where am I?"

"My room. Are you sure you're okay?"

Oh dear. It's all coming back to me now. She was taking me to her room to watch a movie and she was really talking _fondly_ about Mike and his parents and how she seemed to think that Mike's a god on the dance floor and –

"You kind of blacked out on me back there."

The shame!

I can't help but not meet her gaze because that's like the icing on the cake, for Pete's sake! She leaves me breathless, she makes me dazed, she can make me conjure scenes on my head that's totally beyond me and now, apparently, she can also make me faint.

"Sorry."

I feel the dip of the bed.

- And they lived happily ever after. The end.

No. No it's not the end. Why can't this fairy tale end? A girl can only take this much!

"Are you okay?"

She's been asking me this question quite a lot, really.

"Yeah, yeah." I scooted until I had my back on the bed rest. She scooted closer as well.

Is it hot in here or what?

"You really don't look okay. Am I too much?"

Yes. Yes you are. I mean come on!

"I'm okay, and no. It's just – all this excite – " Word filter. Word filter! " - all this events going way too fast and uh…" Work brain, damn it! "I'm sorry I fainted back there."

"It's fun carrying you, so no. Thank you for fainting." She was smiling so gloriously it didn't even make me feel so bad about fainting AND having her carry me to her bed.

She was biting her lip and I swear I feel lightheaded again. I can only muster a small smile at that. Good thing I'm still sitting up on the bed. Her bed. Oh shit.

I scrambled to my feet to get off her bed. How can I be so relaxed lounging on her bed on the first day of meeting her?

"Sorry, I, I didn't mean to – "

"Hey, hey, chill" her hands are on my waist as she steadies me from getting up off her bed. She was still sitting and the position is nice. Nice but awkward. But really niceeeee.

"Uh…" Her hands need to get off me, or else.

"Why don't you stay?"

She's pouting because she knows this is the part where I'll attempt to leave, again.

"It's… I…" Yes. So articulate. "Look, Santana…" What? I licked my lips in an attempt to break off the desert that is my mouth. She's waiting for me with her wonderful brown eyes and pouty lips and cute nose and –

I sighed and shook my head. "I can't."

Her brows furrowed cutely "You can't what?"

That's actually a good question. Yes. I can't stay here with your hand on my hips because Lord knows I'm a beat away at jumping on you. And I can't stand seeing that pout! You have to understand that I can't just look at you and not be rendered hopeless! I just can't.

"I can't stay. I really have to go home. My mom's probably worried waiting for me. She doesn't know where I am. Right now, I mean." Bravo.

She's nodding with understanding. Good. Soon I was nodding as well. Yep. Good.

We broke our little nodding and staring contest and before I could look around the room I don't think I'll ever see again, she was standing up – staring back at me with that I-have-an-idea-and-you're-gonna-love-it smile. I smiled back unsure.

"Yes?"

"I think I can solve this." She nodded again smiling and clutching at my hips.

"Yeah?" My head bobbed up and down in unison to her.

Huh? Solve?

I stopped the head bobbing.

"What? Solve what?" Was there a problem I'm privy of aside from the fact that we're in her room by her bed and only having the knowledge of our first names?

Before I know it, we were leaving her room – that I will never see again – and we're back in their living room where Pixie lounged and perked up as she sees us. I was so tempted to wave at it – her. The dog. Whatever.

As soon as she sat on their couch, she was walking back upstairs.

"Wait there, ok?"

She didn't even let me answer that so I sighed and plopped fully on the couch. Pixie seems to not mind my presence anymore. Good. And I'm not that scared of her anymore. Definitely good!

"Alright!" Santana came down sporting a tight blue jeans, a nice tank topped with a jersey jacket. and I stood up, ready to say good bye and – why does she have a bag?

She nudged at my elbow. "Let's go then."

"Where?"

"Your place. I wanna meet your mom."

What?

No, not good.

Definitely not good.

* * *

><p>Meeting Judy Fabray up next.<p>

AN: Thank you for reading this. I appreciate the review and the story alerts.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you for taking the time in reading this story. I appreciate it. Changed Rating to M just to be safe.

Oh.. and yes, I saved my password (and wrote it on something I don't think I'll ever misplace, just in case).

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

><p>My freewill was robbed off me the moment she dragged me out of their house. We were picked up by a black SUV and I swear my feet walked me right in it. Where the car came from, I have no idea. Seeing as she just nodded her head to the driver and the driver nodding back in a gesture of great scheme didn't surprise me at all.<p>

Hey, she'd been doing all these crazy non-conformity stuff and if you tell me that she can control people and communicate telepathically then I'd just downright agree with you.

It didn't even come to me to ask if I could say goodbye to my friends next door.

Hah. They should worry their asses off for putting me in this situation anyways.

It's the least they could do for me.

* * *

><p>She was smiling at me like a kid. No, scratch that. With a body like that, she cannot be mistaken for a kid, even if she smiles so adorably and her eyes light up like a sunrise.<p>

Realization isn't so fast to me today. We're going to our house.

Oh boy, talk about way out of hand.

Hold on.

"Hey" I try to get her attention and not the driver's because I just realized that he's big and they're like mafias right?

"Hmm?"

"Does…" I eyed the scary guy through the rearview mirror. "Does he know where we're going?" I made sure I whispered that to her.

She looked at the guy from the rearview mirror too, and this time he looked back and just nodded at her without Santana actually asking him anything.

What's up with all the telepathic talk?

"Yes. Alfred – " she gestured at the driver who coughed and muttered a low "Travis" snapped my attention from Santana to the driver. He looked at me from the rearview mirror and smiled sheepishly. I turned confused at Santana.

" – knows every family in this town" she continued unfazed. Huh?

"O… kay?"

She sat primly and I decided to just go with the flow. I'm still feeling a little bit lightheaded.

"Alfred – "

"Travis."

" – please step on it."

"Yes, miss."

* * *

><p>"We're here Quinn."<p>

My eyes hurt from snapping open so much today. But I had the decency to pretend that I did not just doze off the 20-minute drive from their place to my place which is kind of creepy. I mean, I know her driver knows where I live and she told me that subtly but actually reaching my house and validating that he did know where I live is just plain –

The door to my side opened and I hopped off. Alfred – or Travis – bowed lightly and I just noticed that he sported a black suit.

"Thanks."

He smiled and then ran to the other side to let Santana off. Wow. Talk about having a real-life butler.

I mean, we're not rich.

Ok, we are.

But having a butler isn't something I think my mom would have wanted. She liked the liberty of commandeering the house and her family obviously depending on her. Sure she often attended meetings but she lets my dad do all the papers and what not. He's her POA, so she can virtually let him work her thing.

I really don't understand half of what they're doing.

I feel Santana's arm linked to mine as she half dragged my half-dazed self towards our front door with Alfred – or Travis – in tow carrying her small gym bag.

And again, wow. We're in front of my house. How did this thing got way out of hand?

Well, no use dilly-dallying.

I rang the doorbell. Which is stupid, I know. But I felt the need to have my mom mentally prepare for – uh – the unexpected. She'll think of visitors instead of her youngest child trapped in a – I really don't know.

"I'm coming."

I hear a muffled sing-song voice on the other side of the door. My mom is pleasant to visitors. By pleasant, I meant civil.

I hear Santana chuckle and I didn't have the heart to glare at her. Who would? I'm sure my mom would also see the humor in those words she just used.

"Yes? – Oh my."

"Hi mom."

"Hello Judy."

I felt my neck snapped. Screw that she knows me. She knows my mom?

"Santana! Lovely to see you darling." My mom hugs her and I feel so duped. Like – "what twisted universe am I in" the sequel.

Screw that she knows my mom. My mom knows her?

They hug there like they've known each other for ages.

"Come in, come in."

I feel Santana turn and motion for Alfred – Travis – to hand over her bag. "Judy, this is Alfred – "

"Travis."

" – he's my valet from New York."

"Florida."

"Right right." Santana gently patted Alfre – er – Travis' cheeks and he just smiled. I don't know why she keeps calling him that and I'm sure I'd be pissed (okay I'm not sure actually) if she calls me a completely different name but he's just standing there with a genuine smile.

Man, Santana whips like a boss.

"Good morning to you Mrs Fabray." He greets with a nod.

"Why hello Travis. Please come in."

"Honored, but I'm afraid Mr Lopez needs me at the warehouse."

"Oh I see. That's too bad."

They continued the small banter and I'm just… confused and terrified. My mom isn't socially capable of being nice to strangers! I know! She thought me to be wary of strangers and social-climbers and – why is she soooo nice to them? She's a nice woman, don't get me wrong. And she treats strangers as persons. But she's not THIS nice.

"Well, we better get you inside dear." She says to Santana as Alf – Travis walked to the car and drove off leaving Santana and me.

What about me mom?

"Quinnie, what are you standing there for? I have sandwich cutlets with your name on it."

Yes!

And for once, all is right with the world.

* * *

><p>I momentarily set the questions aside as my mom reached for Santana's bag and hand it over to Miriam, one of my mom's maids. We don't have butlers or valets, but my mom appreciates a help or two. Or four, to be exact. They don't wear uniforms, 'cause that'll make them a stranger to this house. And we don't take lightly to strangers.<p>

Speaking of which, why aren't Santana and my mom strangers to each other?

We were seated by the pool, enjoying the shade and the sun – I'm enjoying the shade while they're unabashedly enjoying the mid morning sun.

I am itching to ask.

"Santana, darling, how is your mother?"

We're not of English decent, just to be clear. But my mom loves it.

"She's doing fine. She's currently away for a visit at the plantation."

"Oh, she did promise she'll take me to Fajardo once – she's in Fajardo, right?"

"No, she's in San Juan right now."

"I see. And your father let her travel alone? That's odd."

"Well, they don't really do this often, but she's with Rodrigo so…"

"And how's that brother of yours?"

"He's doing well, thank you for asking."

Hold the phone. How are they talking about this in front of me? It's so obvious now that my mom knows Santana, not only by name but so intimately. I don't know if the bewildered look on my face alarmed my mom because she's paying attention to me now.

About time, dear mother.

"Quinnie? Are you alright?"

I just stare at her blankly. Your daughter is distraught, goodness! Come comfort me here!

"I think she's not feeling well, Judy. She fainted at my house." Santana was saying.

"What? Oh goodness, Laura!" My mom immediately got up and felt my head and neck. Laura came out with a worried look. She's been my nanny since I was 9.

"What's wrong?"

"Laura, please call Dr – "

"No, mom I'm okay."

"No young lady. We can't dismiss fainting. It could be a serious case of cardiopulmonary disease!"

"Mom – "

"No, Laura, please call Dr St Pierre"

"Of course."

I feel my mom fan me and Santana moved to sit by my side. I can feel her running her hand up and down my arm.

I could do this all day.

But, you know what? Stop.

"How do you know her?" I know the way I asked my mom was kind of rude, as if Santana's not beside me but I can't be bothered by that now, can I?

"Sweetie, I met Santana and her family back in London five years ago. Remember when Schwartz was launching their line? Her brothers were modeling for it and I met them helping your Aunt Lily organize the show. Your father and I have dined with them numerous times. Now enough talk, just rest."

"Why don't I know that?"

"Know what?"

"That you know them!" My voice raised in frustration.

My mom looked at me in reprimand. "It is not my fault that you refuse every single time I invite you to attend dinners. Now, keep quiet until Allison comes here."

I breathed a sigh and looked at Santana - who's looking at me intensely. I gulped and turn to my mother.

"Can I stay upstairs?"

"Of course dear." My mom helps me up 'cause I suddenly feel really weak.

"Let me, Judy."

Oh no. But since I'm weak, I let Santana ease me up and as she wrapped her hand on my waist, I seriously thought that it wasn't so bad.

Until she carried me bridal style.

"Wha- Hey! Put me down!" I'm flailing. Dear gracious me, I'm flailing like a fish!

"Hold still Quinnie." I can't believe who's side my mom is taking!

"Put me down Santana! Mom!"

"Quinn, save your energy. It'll make it easier for me to carry you."

"I can walk – just – Put me down!"

"Young lady, let her carry you!"

"Mom – "

"Hush it!"

I shut my trap. And I groaned in resignation. I feel my breath hitched and I know I don't have the energy to fight off the universe. This is one epic battle I will never ever forget. Screw you universe! Screw you and your mean, unfair ways! I'm Lucy Quinn Fabray damn it! You don't mess with the Quinn!

I'll get back at you, some day.

* * *

><p>I let Santana carry me upstairs, with my mom in tow. The way she held my body, oh god. But the shame isn't making me enjoy this. The fact that she's done this two times already – unconscious towards her bedroom and now completely awake towards my room – is really killing all the cool mojos I have in me.<p>

But that didn't stop me from clutching at her shoulders. I have my pride but I value my life. And it'll be my fault if we fall because I was too in tuned with how our body is so close to just swallow it and hold on to her.

Breathe damn it! I feel her strong arms carrying me and saw how her face never strained. She's so beautiful like this. If the situation isn't as demeaning as it is, I would've kissed her.

Yes, I would have.

And I could just dissipate into molecules.

Happy, happy molecules.

"I'm glad you've calmed down, _Quinnie_…" her hushed whisper turned me into a tomato.

"Sh-shut it."

She chuckles and held me tighter, if that was even possible.

* * *

><p>So far, she has touched my wrist, hand, chin, arms, legs and now I can safely say she has touched my whole body sans the more – err – intimate places. Who knew that we only needed one contact and we'd go from dealing with a soccer ball to being in each other's bedrooms?<p>

I will never admit that Puck and Brittany's plan have something to do with this. Nope. Never.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for your time. I appreciate it, the reviews, alerts and faves.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Many thanks to the reviews, alerts, faves and just simply taking the time to read this story. Very much appreciated.

All the errors are mine, and I'm sorry if the error offends any of you in any way.

A/N2: SP, you know who you are, read the bottom A/N.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

><p>"Too much excitement."<p>

Dr Allison St Pierre is a douche. I don't care that she's hot and she's a respectable doctor, but she's a douche. She's grinning from ear to ear, wiggling her brows and looking at my mom in conspiracy. Everything's a darn conspiracy!

"You should avoid getting _too_ excited, especially in today's heat."

Every darn word that leaves her mouth is like needles of shame and embarrassment hurled on to me one prickle at a time.

She's teasing me. She knows and she's freaking teasing me.

Santana's worried look tells me she's taking Allison's diagnosis to heart. Her nodding is really cute and the fact that she's looking at me makes her miss the goofball face Allison is sporting.

My to-kill list is growing.

"What do you recommend Allison?" my mom's betraying me too. She figured it out. Great.

Allison looks at me, contemplating the best medicine – or best torture she'd give me. We've had our share of banters but this will definitely up her points against me.

Santana's looking at her and I can't help but feel bad that she's going to be part of Allison's twisted plan. The doctor's been trying to hook me up with random people ever since she became our family doctor. She's really good at what she does though and seriously, I love the woman like family, but she sometimes forgets that she's forty and acts so much like a 15-year-old punk.

"She needs a lot of rest, no leaving the bed unless well rested and plenty of fruits."

Santana's doing the cute nodding again. Is she with them? Or is she honestly taking this all in?

To my surprise, she turns to Santana. "Can you make sure of that?"

"Of course, Dr St Pierre"

Wha- Why?

"St P, I think I can take care of myself. No need to - "

"No, Quinn, just relax…" Allison sits on the chair beside my bed. She tucked me under the duvet and patted my forehead. I'll get you soon enough! "…Enjoy the rest of the day." Her eyes are twinkling and her brows are wiggling with her back facing my mom and Santana while Santana's obliviously looking at me with a worried expression.

I gritted my teeth, and smiled begrudgingly. "Thanks St P."

"You're most welcome."

"I'll walk you out."

My mom started leaving with Dr Allison in tow. Santana took over the chair the doctor previously sat on.

"I'm sorry."

I was startled.

Well, I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I had to be such a lame person. I'm sorry you had to meet the genius and borderline crazy doctor that is Allison. I'm sorry that I fainted back at your house. I'm sorry that Brittany's pout helped convinced me to go through this plan of meeting you. I'm sorry I'm shit-scared of your lovely Pixie. I'm sorry I'm –

"I didn't mean to overdo it."

Huh? Overdo what? I raised a brow at her.

"I've been meaning to just introduce myself back there, but you were so cute and you were fiddling with your hands and…" she sighed and looked at me.

I cannot process this new information fast enough.

She thinks I'm cute. Check. Okay what else?

"I really didn't mean to, Quinn" she was saying as she reached for my hand under the covers. She held it under her chin and God – am I dying?

"I… It's okay. I mean, I didn't know that I wasn't used to… " I turned my head to the side. "…too much excitement." I chanced a look at her again.

She's giggling and she's leaning too close. "Well, you better get used to it soon, Quinn."

I gulped and she immediately pulled back. "Sorry, sorry." She was shaking her head. She looked at me apologetically.

"I can't help it. You…" she paused and she's scanning my whole face, looking for… something. "You make me do things."

Her voice is low. And my brain short circuited as she said those lines. I make her do things? What things? These things? These fast hyperventilating things?

She's looking at me and I can't think straight!

She stopped and just brought my hand to her lips. Oh god.

My mouth's hanging wide open but I don't care. She kissed my knuckles! Her lips touched it ever so gently and she kissed it!

I'm about to faint. Again.

Good thing I'm on my bed this time.

We settled for the quiet. And it's lulling me to sleep.

Her hand brushing my hair every so often didn't really help keep me awake.

"Sleep Quinn." I look at her and I must looked confused or worried cause she coos me to sleep. "Don't worry, I'll wait for you when you wake up."

Now why didn't that surprise me?

* * *

><p>I've resigned myself to accepting that my family is friends with the Lopez. And I'm pretty sure that for all the scenarios Kurt had laid in front of us at that time, this was certainly a big twist.<p>

I was contemplating on sending them a group message telling them how far the 'fated meeting' has gone. But that would mean I'd have to scour my room to find the darn thing. I'm not fond of bringing a cell phone with me every day. So if I could find an excuse to fling it somewhere in this room every morning, then I'd take that excuse.

They're used to handling that about me, not having a cell phone handy. So I guess they've pretty much resigned themselves as well to just wait for any news come Monday.

* * *

><p>3 hours of sleep does a lot to you.<p>

I've certainly regained my self-control for one.

Or at least I hoped I did.

Get your act together Fabray!

I knew I did. I did!

Expect the unexpected. Expect that when you go down there, she'll be there. She'll be there and it'll feel natural and you will treat her like your mom treats her.

Okay.

Okay go!

* * *

><p>I ascended the stairs carefully looking for any sign of a wonderful brunette. I have my poker face on and systems are go!<p>

I was right when I hear small chatter by the pool. They've been catching up, I see. I approached them with my winning smile.

"Hi."

"Oh you're awake, how do you feel sweetie?" My mom approached me and I can see the worry on her face. Now that I think about it, I did tend to hyperventilate when I feel too excited. Hence I perfected my nonchalant mood to negate excitement in general.

I just underestimated the excitement that is Santana Lopez.

She changed into comfortable shorts and a loose shirt. It looked so homey. I want to hug her and pretend we're lovers.

"I feel wonderful mom. Thank you" I turn to her. Hah. You won't catch me off guard now.

She smiled and my mom sees this as a sign. A sign of what – I am clueless. But I'm ready.

"Why don't I leave the two of you alone. Get to know each other." Ofcourse mom.

I just smiled and nodded.

"I'll see you two at dinner." With that my mom left to do her thing. Whatever that is.

I sense her intense gaze and I know I have home court advantage. I'm crushing on this lady and so help me God I'll be the one asking her for a date!

"Tea?" I've done a little homework inside my brain and as I was getting dressed before going down here I knew my mom never stopped mentioning about teatime whenever they visit UK. I'm assuming Santana's fond of the drink. I liked it too.

"Wonderful idea." She's smiling as if she has an ace. Well, I have an ace up my sleeve too. I feel myself smirk.

"This way then."

I led her inside to my personal study. All my _weapons_ are there. I'll impress the shit out of you, baby!

* * *

><p>We decided we'd skip tea and just lounged in my study.<p>

It's not what I had in mind. But I think we've reached neutral grounds.

We're talking like we've been friends since kindergarten. And so far everything's been… smooth. It's like nothing tense happened back at my room. It's like all my goof ups vanished and I don't feel so embarrassed.

"What?" I asked lightly with a smile. She was staring at me as we played a lazy game of chess.

She shook her head as she nonchalantly took out my bishop with her knight. "Nothing. Your turn."

I shrugged and made a move. I'm not good at this game. But I think she's just guiding our plays in circles.

I've learned quite a few things about her through this game, though. She's not that patient, but all the take downs she played are calculated and she doesn't disregard the tiny details – even though my moves are random. I'm really impressed. Not that I needed them to impress me… more.

God, how do I impress her back though?

* * *

><p>We finally decided to have some late afternoon tea (after her defeating me five times and me impressing her zero percent), and just lounge around and wait for my mom to declare dinner all over the house.<p>

Somehow we ended up staring at each other and spewing questions back and forth.

"Color?"

"Purple" I answered not batting an eyelash. Maybe this is her way of making me immune to her. You know, holding my gaze and just quirking a brow here and there, making me get used to all her hotness and smexiness and just let my brain go on overdrive just to short circuit the nerves that are begging me to nosebleed.

"Book?"

"Little Women"

"Really?"

She nods and quirks her brow again. I quirked my brow back. We've somehow reached the questions of nonsensical randomness. I'm done asking about her family and so far no mafia background whatsoever. Delving on the realms of what I think I'm at par with, I'm completely taken aback by how spontaneous her answers could be.

"Position?"

Now that's what I call a complete table-turner.

"Sorry what?" Ofcourse I understood her questions. Just want to buy sometime without sprinting out the exit. We're still eye-sexing.

"Preferred position." She clarifies.

I smirked and decided to thread the waters. "In cheerleading?"

She squinted her eyes then smirked back. Oh boy. "Sure, whatever floats your boat."

"Well I prefer my current, which is a tumbler." Let's see what you're made of Lopez.

"Ooh, agile." Crap. "I like it." She roamed her eyes all over me before settling to my eyes again. I can feel the twitch on my side. She knows and she's on the advantage.

I suddenly remembered Brittany – or I forced myself to think of Brittany "Do you wanna cheer?"

She thought back a bit before tilting her head to the side. "I'd rather watch than do the act"

"Oh, that's disappointing." I muttered and it's too late for me to notice the sparkle in her eyes. Did I say something wrong?

"Sorry, it wasn't meant to mean anything. You see, my friend Britt thinks that you should join the Cheerios. So it's disappointing you know? I'd love to see you out there – I mean performing with us out there." Stop talking Lucy. "You have a great structure – not that I'm checking you out or anything uncomfortable like that – I just meant when I see you walk by, or you're in my line of sight." Oh crap. "And I bet you can dance so well. I mean, Britt thinks you can dance well. Not that I – you know – think that you can't dance. I actually do."

Oh bless thy rambling.

She giggles and I really wanted to cut the eye-sexing we've been doing "Relax Quinn. I just thought that if cheerleaders cheer the players, who's to cheer the cheerleaders?"

Huh?

"Huh?"

"Think about it." She leaned closer and I swear I'm thinking about it – atleast I'm trying to. "You guys have all your focus on the players. You guys jump, dance and get tossed in the air. Who's left to give focus on you?"

"…the audience?"

"Exactly. I wanna be part of the audience. Enjoying the cheerleaders." She ends that with a wink.

I know that statement was like totally normal. And no innuendos there. Nope. I checked. I double checked. I rewind the statement. Nope.

So why am I blushing?

She lowered her eyes and I took this opportunity to look at anything other than her. My gaze landed on her cup and mine. We've ran out of tea.

"You have DC Comics?"

I looked up and she's eyeing my nerd shelf. Yep. I have one. Sam has one too. I bet Mike has one also. But that's beside the point.

"Uh, yeah. I like Batman. And stuff." I admitted as I met her gaze in other eye-sex marathon. I'm not shy. No way. I've loved reading comics and though I'm not as fanatic as anyone else maybe, I know what I like and I enjoy it. I just thought she wouldn't be int –

"I love Batman!"

Oh.

"I mean, isn't it cool that even though you don't have superpowers that you can kick ass and wear capes and stuff?"

Wow.

Santana Lopez loves Batman.

Sam would flip. I flipped so Sam would definitely flip.

She's smiling and I'm nodding and wow.

"Come on, are you really that surprised?"

Well, duh?

"Yes, I mean, you really don't come off as someone who likes Batman."

"You just met me."

"That too"

"Well I do, okay?" she smiles and I just had to ask.

"Who're you then? Catwoman? Ivy?"

"No."

"Who?" Don't tell me she's gonna go with Harley.

"I'm Bruce Wayne of course."

Hu – what?

"No kidding." I didn't mean for it to be said out loud but I did.

"Well, unless you'd like to be Bruce, then I'd be all Selina Kyle for you."

Mind boggled.

"Q?"

"Yeah?"

"You're really cute."

"Uh huh."

I know I'm saying things. I just hope I'm not forming sentences at this point. I don't want to reveal any coherent secrets I have in my life.

"Come on, look. Our cups empty." She was saying as she wiggled her cup in my line of sight, never letting go of my gaze.

I remembered that our cups been empty for awhile. I just held her gaze back. She likes Batman. She's hot and she digs Batman. And she knows Selina Kyle.

She shakes her head and just continuously stares back at me. God, she's really amazingly surprising.

But enough of that. Her cup's empty. So is mine.

"Would you like another cup of marriage – TEA!" Oh god. "Would you like another cup of _tea_?" Where's a fuckin' hole you can crawl in when you need one?

"You said marriage." Her voice was full of mirth I can't help but feel all the blood in my body rush to my face but I never dropped my gaze.

I feel my eyes water at the effort of continuing this eye-sex sport. "No. Tea. I'm saying tea – "

Without batting an eyelash, she cut me off with a "Yes, but you said marriage. I guess you meant tea, but you said marriage."

She really has to drop it. I mean, can I not be more obvious? Please? Just – just...

I sighed and I try again, her eyes never leaving mine and my eyes never leaving hers. "Well, I'm asking you clearly now," I feel myself swallowing any excess saliva that may cause me to make a fool of myself – yet again – for the umpteenth time.

"Would you..."Her sparkling brown eyes are just whoah "..like…" I can feel myself doing this for hours and hours. "…another cup…" and I mean hours and hours and hours. "…of tea?" I'm sure I said it as slow as I could.

She paused and tilted her head and goodness gracious great balls of what have yous! She smiles that hot sexy and yet angelic smile and slowly – deliberately slowly – she responded.

"I do."

Yep. And that's how you impress the shit out of a lady, ladies and gents!

I'm done for.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you and I hope you all enjoyed reading it.

A/N2: Dr Allison St Pierre is mine. She's a real person (the name's close). And yes, until today she still forgets she's over forty and acts like a 15-year-old spawn of the darkness. But I love her. SP, you ARE NOT telling her about this. This is a warning. You said you wanted to read this in exchange for... yeah. So here it is. This is the last chapter you'll be in. Now shoo and just stalk my FB.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Again, thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, faves and simply having the time to read this. I can't thank you all enough.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

><p>"You sure you don't want to room with Quinnie?"<p>

"Mom – "

"No, Judy, the guest room's quite lovely and I don't see any problem."

"Righ – "

"But surely you girls would like to watch a movie or talk about – ooh I don't know – life?"

"We don't need to talk about – "

"And do you have plans tomorrow? I'm sure Quinnie would like to spend time with you – "

"Mom-"

"- or atleast give you a ride back home?"

"I'll just call Alfred. My papi also wants me to go out with him tomorrow."

"Yeah, and we'll see each other – "

"But Santana, darling, your father is a disaster at dinners – and you can tell him I told you that."

"Yes, but he's a charmer so he made me say yes even before I thought of that."

"Oh well then, you two have a good night's rest."

My mom totally made me a third wheel tonight. I don't even know why I bothered giving my two cents in.

* * *

><p>"So."<p>

She was smiling at me and waiting for something. I decided it wouldn't hurt to walk her to the guest room, seeing as she's my guest. Not planned, but still, my guest.

"So…?" I asked back. Well not really asked, but what can I say. Think Fabray! Think! What would Noah Puckerman do? "You want company before you sleep?"

Right. I had to think of egghead.

She giggled and I just shook my head. The embarrassment just kept piling up the moment I figured I moved on from them.

"Nah. I think we're done for the day, Quinn." She smiled that gracious smile.

And then it went awkward.

Is this the part where I kiss her good night? Do I wave good night? Somehow, just saying 'Good Night' won't cut it. I mean, this day is so epic we'll go down in the history of mankind! Should I just wait for her to just turn around? This isn't a date! I just walked her to the guest room _inside_ my house. My. House. Argh, please make her do something. I can't keep this smile on my face without being worried it'll be permanent.

"Good night Quinn. Thank you."

"Oh, uh, yes. Good night Santana. It was… ahem… nice meeting you."

She giggled and I can't help but hold that smile a little shinier than usual. The way her eyes crinkled is just precious.

"Clearly, I feel the same way. I was actually very _pleased_ to finally meet you."

She's walking towards me, crossing that tiniest bit of space I left for comfort. Is she…?

Oh. Hug. Well, this is nice. I hug her as well and I sort of subtly sniffed her. She smells so nice.

That's an understatement. But, oh well. She really REALLY smells nice.

I really thought she's going to kiss me.

"You kind of… have to let go of me somehow Q."

"Wh-What?"

"You're still hugging me. Not that I mind."

"Oh. Sorry." Oh, sorry? Top the cake with strawberry why don't you?

She shook her head in amusement and I knew that was it. I better turn around and walk away so this day can end.

"Wait Quinn."

"Yes? Do you need – "

Air. Lots and lots of air. Humans need air. They also need food. Water. Shelter. A family. A community. A safe environment. Humans need a lot. Definitely.

"Q?"

"Huh?"

"Good night Q…I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Uh huh."

"Night…"

"Uh huh."

* * *

><p>"Quinnie? What are you doing standing there?"<p>

I really don't know how to answer that, mom.

"Well, seems like Santana's settled." She was saying with that mischievous grin you don't want your mother to be wearing in front of you. "Did she give you a good night kiss? Just kidding, sweetie. Good night!"

Her laughter echoed in the hall and I stood there dope-faced.

You know, mom, she actually did.

* * *

><p>I don't know how I got back to my room. I just found myself lying on my bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.<p>

Santana Lopez kissed me good night.

Not on the cheeks. Not on the nose. Not on the forehead.

On the lips.

A sigh came out and I sighed at that.

Oh my god, I have to stop smiling!

What will I do tomorrow? Should I wait by her door until she wakes up? That would be kind of creepy. Should I write this down on my diary? Hell no. I mean, I will never forget this so writing this down is really useless. I didn't even accomplish anything except maybe show her how dopey I could get.

Come to think of it, I should be happy. Hell yeah!

I did not only officially met Santana Lopez, I also met her dog Pixie! And I'm alive!

I also met Alf- Travis, who she calls Alfred for reasons beyond me.

We also made lots and lots of contact. Like physically intimate contacts. She carried me twice. She touched my chin, hand, forehead, lips… She touched my lips with her lips.

Wow.

What do I do? I suck at this. All day, in my own house, she charmed me like a boss and I didn't do squat. Should I cook her breakfast? We're not together like that, why should I? Maybe I should wake up before her and just greet her with a kiss. But that would only show how affected I was with the kiss she gave. I don't even know if that was normal. Maybe it was for her. Does she kiss her friends good night on the lips? How is her lips so soft like that? It tastes like cherry. We didn't eat cherry. She's not wearing lipstick, is she? Why does it –

* * *

><p>"Quinn?"<p>

Argh. Sundays are supposed to be me sleeping in. Laura should know that by heart!

"Quinn? Your mom, Miss Lopez and breakfast are waiting for you!"

Miss Lopez. I thought it was all a dream. A very vivid, amazing dream.

But then again, I remembered I argued myself to sleep. The internal battle was so epic it knocked me out.

And I'm about to face off with her again. Well, half of the day at most.

I decided to just sleep the day away but I rolled way too much and I forgot my bed can only house two squished bodies.

The drop on the floor was so grand I don't even wanna talk about it.

* * *

><p>"Sweetie, good morning!"<p>

"Good morning Quinn."

And everyone's happy. They're giggling and I just know they heard my epic drop. I nod and I'm not really the smiley morning person.

Somehow Santana's not having that same heart-wrenching effect on me, this early in the morning. Oh, she's having an effect on me alright, but not that heart-wrenching. I'm still asleep.

"Did you get a good night's sleep Quinnie."

My mom is milking this situation so good it hurts to squint at her in reprimand. Don't talk Lucy. Let Santana know you're not a push-over.

"Nggh.."

Or a cave man for that matter. Geez.

I hear her giggle. And I don't care. Okay I care. I can't care enough. I want my milk! Where's my milk? I looked at my mom and hoped to God she's using her motherly instinct right now to tend to my needs. Santana looked at me amused. My mom shakes her head and gets up to get me something.

"She's not a morning person."

No shit, mom.

"She's adorable though. I should wake her up next time. I think it'll be precious."

"Oh, that would've been amazing! Raincheck?"

"Raincheck."

"Ngggrrr.." My milk's not coming fast enough mom!

After laughing (at my expense), my mom finally gives me my glass. I can't deal with embarrassment right now, I'm still asleep.

* * *

><p>"So, where were we? Ah yes, Travis is coming over in an hour or so, right?"<p>

"Yes, it was really wonderful seeing you again Judy."

"Oh, please. We should do this more often. I just thought you were busy during the day with your friends and all."

"Oh no, we don't hang out that much. But yes, this is definitely a wonderful experience."

Yeah, just talk like I'm not here. God, why am I still asleep? I don't care. My mind's a mud. A dirty mud. My milk's great though. As well as the pancakes. Ooh pancakes!

"I hope you enjoyed meeting my youngest."

"Yes, I did."

"It bothered me that she wasn't talking about you when I heard you transferred back to McKinley."

"Well, it's just now that we met officially."

"Officially?"

Oh no. Don't go there. No no. Come on, Lucy, wake up!

"Yes, it's a really long story."

"I love stories."

Yeah, I bet you do mom.

"I'll let Quinn tell you all about it, perhaps? I don't think she likes the topic."

I looked at my mom with half-opened eyes and tried to convey the truth of Santana's statement. Yes, mom. I don't like this topic.

"That just makes me more curious about it. Well, anyway, I guess I'll have to wait next weekend then – "

Huh? Next weekend?

" – seeing as I won't be able to squeeze it out of her during the weekdays, I'll just be patient then,"

Why? Won't you _squeeze_ them out of me tonight? Tonight's a Sunday right? Right?

"And I won't be able to get the story tonight. Don't get me wrong, I would like to join you girls but having dinner with your father without Russell will end up in a food fight."

Santana's laughing at that. It's so angelic. But somehow, that statement seemed… so wrong.

"It's always fun watching you two. My mami loves it."

"Well your father only behaves when it's the first time he meets someone. So maybe tonight he'll be on his best since he's just meeting Quinnie. I just don't think he'll be able to hold it in if I join you two."

Huh?

"Ah, it's kind of entertaining. I wish you'd just join us."

"Hush now, darling. I don't think Quinnie will also appreciate me joining your sleepover. I'm too old for that."

Whoah. Wait. What?

"Oh, you're not Judy!"

"Please. And besides, I want you girls to enjoy each other's company since she refused to have movie night with you last night."

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

What?

That woke me up.

What? My inability to speak coherently at this time of day made me drop my fork halfway from my mouth. The pancake can wait.

Now I have both of their attention. My mom glares at me.

My baffled face said it all.

And as if my mom remembered something she perks up and smiles.

"Don't worry sweetie, I packed your things so all you need to do is just change out of those sweats and you're good to go."

"Why? Where?" My voice wasn't bedroom husky. It was horrible husky. I don't care cause why the heck am I packed for? And where the heck am I going?

"You're going back to Santana's house. You're sleeping over. I also packed your uniform so you don't have to come back here before going to school."

Wh-Wha?

"Isn't that wonderful Quinn?" Santana winked at me and returned to sipping her cup of –

Goodness gracious, I'm going back to Santana's house!

"And don't give me that look, young lady. Your bags are packed. Enjoy your Sunday with Santana. And no buts."

Apparently, the universe will stop shitting me only when I die.

Give me a break!

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for reading this.


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